The German Nurse

by M. J. Hollows

  ‘You wouldn’t hear much about it here; they kept it quiet. Even we only knew what we heard via word of mouth. There was no way the Party were going to let their dirty little secret become public knowledge.’

  ‘We’re a long way from Berlin here though,’ he said. ‘They will find it more difficult to enforce. We’re still the police of the island. We won’t let them just disappear people.’

  ‘Can you speak for the rest of the police?’

  Jack hesitated. Before the occupation he would have said yes without thinking about it, but now, he wasn’t so sure. For the most part the police were good men, just trying to do a difficult job, but there were perhaps one or two he wasn’t sure about. He didn’t know every man as well as he might, and there were some who would want to increase their standing with the occupying Germans. Some people on the island expected them to be here for a long time, and if you can’t beat them …

  ‘No,’ he said, simply. ‘You’re right. I don’t know if I can trust all of them. But none of them know you are Jewish. I haven’t spoken to any of them about it, not even David.’

  ‘Be careful,’ she said, squeezing his hand. ‘Not just for me, but for you. I can’t lose anyone else.’

  It was the first time she had said that to him, and his voice caught in his throat. All he could do was hold on to her hand and trust that she knew how he felt. He had come to understand that sometimes actions were more important than words. The simple act of being together was all they ever wanted, and Jack would fight for that with every breath.

  *

  The man scrabbling through the hedge was one of the workers from the German labour camps. If it wasn’t for his threadbare clothing, ripped and in tatters, then the unshaven and decrepit state of the man was enough of a clue. He hadn’t yet spotted Jack watching him, and Jack pushed himself further into the crook of the wall to avoid detection. They had received reports of thefts by the Todt workers, but this was the first time Jack had stumbled upon one of the men on their own. He was curious what the labourer was doing. They were allowed to leave the camps, but as none of them had any money they didn’t get up to much. There was nowhere for them to run. The police had received reports of thefts from the Islanders, some of them even being conducted by German soldiers, and so they had been told to keep an eye out.

  The Todt labourer disappeared out of sight and Jack had to leave his hiding place to keep an eye on the man. He detached himself from the shadows and walked slowly around the building as if he was stalking a criminal. He didn’t want to give the game away, but he wondered whether it was unfair on the man to follow him. His superiors would have wanted him to find out what was happening, but he asked himself whether he should be doing something now, rather than just following.

  He pulled one plant out, exposing the roots before moving to another. At first it looked like a random act of vandalism, but then the man picked up a carrot, putting it into his mouth. He had to chew for a few seconds on the raw carrot before he could swallow, but his hunger was obvious, as he moved about and took more of the vegetables. He didn’t discard any of them, bundling some together and placing them into a pocket in his threadbare coat. They bulged out adding to his crooked frame, giving him the appearance of some sort of creature in the winter gloom.

  Jack watched, unsure whether to intervene. He felt sorry for the hungry man, and he was most likely going to take the vegetables to the others at the camp. But this garden belonged to someone, and they too would go hungry. Jack had a decision to make: whose hunger was worthier?

  He was beaten to it, by the sound of someone shouting, ‘Halt!’ A German soldier appeared from the other side of the garden. The labourer started, stumbling into the dirt. He struggled to get up, but the German covered the ground between them easily. Jack saw candlelight appear at the back door to the house, but he waved it away. ‘Get back inside,’ he hissed, hoping the German didn’t hear. All the same, he edged closer to the vegetable patch himself.

  The German shouted something and lifted his rifle above his head as a threat. The worker tried to get up, but struggled. The soldier swore and brought his rifle down. With a sickening crack it smashed the man’s head aside and he fell back to the ground. It was like the sound of a dog being beaten. The man cried out in pain, pleading in whatever language he spoke. Even though Jack couldn’t understand it he knew exactly what the man was saying. Pain and fear were the same in any language. The German didn’t seem to feel pity as he put the rifle back on his shoulder and lifted the man up by the collar of his shirt. The labourer, weakened, fell down again, and this only served to make the soldier angrier.

  Jack took a step forward. He wanted to do something to help, anything, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. ‘Leave him,’ came the familiar voice of Henrik from by his ear. It was a whisper. Jack knew he wouldn’t take a step further, but every fibre of his being wanted to.

  ‘Henrik?’ he asked, out of disbelief that the man was there.

  ‘It’s me,’ he replied, appearing at Jack’s shoulder. ‘We received a report of a foreigner acting suspiciously as well. Why don’t we let the OT man deal with this one, eh?’

  He turned and put an arm in front of Jack to guide him away, but Jack stood where he was, staring at the soldier abusing the labourer. The beating would be etched in his memory forever. ‘How can you let them do this?’ he asked as he exhaled the breath he had been holding. ‘Don’t you care?’

  Henrik sighed and his head dropped. He put a hand on each of Jack’s arms and looked him in the eyes.

  ‘You think we are all evil, Jack.’ As usual Henrik’s English was impeccable and spoken with a surety that many native speakers lacked. ‘But I am not even sure what that word means anymore. How do you think I have managed to last this far? By staying out of trouble. If I tried to stop all the evil in this world, I would not get very far.’

  He let go and put a finely wrapped white cigarette to his lips, took a drag, letting the blue smoke play around his nostrils, then leant back and closed his eyes. He had stopped offering one to Jack, as he knew he wouldn’t accept.

  ‘You think I am like them? But I tell you, I am not! We must pick our battles, make sure we survive this, so that there are still good people in the world. Otherwise, we have failed.’

  Jack stared at Henrik, unwilling to commit. Henrik had got used to Jack being evasive and so simply nodded and took another drag of his cigarette. ‘Evil isn’t really a word I’m familiar with. At least, in a theological sense,’ Jack said.

  Other men might ridicule Jack for trying to be clever, but Henrik just looked at him with those cool blue eyes, considering his point. It was one of the reasons that, despite everything, he liked him. He was never quick to judge, and he always gave Jack time to speak his mind.

  ‘It is not a word I would throw around lightly.’ The OT officer had dragged the labourer away out of their sight, leaving Henrik and Jack to talk unobserved. ‘Most of these men are misguided; some are desperate. Maybe our Führer is evil, but I have never met him. He surrounds himself with greedy jealous people, but are they evil? I do not know. All I know is that they would kill me as soon as they heard me speak this way. Because of that, we can never have this conversation again. You understand?’ He took another long pull on the cigarette, then dropped it under the heel of his boot.

  Jack watched the embers die, thinking of all those who had lost their lives in this war.

  ‘I understand,’ Jack replied, feeling for the first time that he recognised the danger they were all in. Jack, Johanna, and even Henrik, were a fine line away from being like that labourer, broken down, beaten, and put to work. ‘I understand,’ he repeated, knowing that in order to keep them all safe he would have to stay away from Henrik as much as possible.

  Chapter 27

  20 April 1942

  Jack stopped as he was leaving the station. A woman stood in the entrance, clutching her handbag as if she was about to apologise for something. He looked around for William, but
the desk sergeant was nowhere to be seen. Like all his colleagues, William had a habit of disappearing just when he was needed.

  ‘Can I help you, madam?’ he asked, walking up to the woman. The chief had told them to always be polite, but Jack didn’t need to try where this woman was concerned. The look she gave him was enough to break even the coldest of hearts. Her face was downturned and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  She spoke, but there was a catch in her throat. Throwing him an apologetic look, she cleared her throat with two polite coughs. ‘I’m here,’ she said, her accent reminding Jack of Johanna. ‘To have my identity card stamped. As a Jew.’

  Jack blinked. None of them had expected the Jews to turn up and identify themselves. The inspector had a list somewhere, and he had expected that to be enough, but here she was. Now he understood the concern on her face, but what was she doing? She should be hiding, like Johanna, like Susanne, keeping away from the authorities as much as possible. But then maybe she hadn’t been in Germany. She didn’t know the fear, couldn’t take what was happening at any more than face value. She must have lived on the island a long time, dismissed the rumours as fear mongering, as the rest of them had.

  Without a word he escorted her into the station, found a chair and went to find the inspector. The old man could deal with the records. It was a task Jack didn’t relish, a task that he absolutely wouldn’t do. He made sure he was far away from the police station before any more Jews turned up. If he didn’t have to see their forlorn faces, then maybe he could pretend it wasn’t happening. Perhaps he could process the guilt then.

  *

  ‘I just need to stop off somewhere,’ David said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the High Street. ‘I won’t be long. Wait for me outside?’

  Jack left David to it. His excursions had become more common, particularly on the night shift, and Jack had given up trying to stop him. Other policemen would have dived into the recessed entrance of Boots the Chemist to smoke a cheeky fag, but not Jack. Still, he realised that standing aimlessly in the middle of the road was not going to look good if a German patrol came past.

  David came back a few minutes later and walked straight past Jack without really seeing him. Jack shrugged and moved to match his colleague’s step. They walked for a time in silence, patrolling St Peter Port and nodded at any civilians they passed. David’s habitual smile had left his face, and Jack couldn’t help but feel that something was wrong.

  ‘Everything all right?’ he asked as he touched to brim of his hat to a passing woman who didn’t seem to notice him any more than his partner did. She hurried off down a back alley and Jack watched her for a few moments, wondering where she was going in such a hurry.

  He quickened his step to catch up with the other policeman. David had always been a large man, larger than Jack, but with the dire situation on the island, their lack of food, he had lost weight. His sallow skin hung loosely from his jowls and the bottom of his arms, and his uniform desperately needed taking in. As Jack got nearer he noticed a bulge in one of David’s pockets, as if he had stuffed a packet in there. David fingered it absent-mindedly as he walked, appearing not to notice what he was doing.

  Jack looked sideways at him, and decided that it was no good, he would have to ask. Part of him didn’t want to know, but the other part, the part that thought it was better to know and then be able to deal with it, won out.

  ‘What have you got there?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of David’s jacket pocket.

  ‘What?’ At first he gave Jack a look of confusion, then he looked down at his hand and realised what he had been doing. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘This? Oh … oh, it’s nothing. Just something for my wife.’

  Jack didn’t really mind what David was getting up to. All he was concerned about was whether it would affect him or not. He had his mother and Johanna to think about and he couldn’t risk losing his job. He pulled David aside, noticing how skinny his arm had become.

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I don’t care what you’re up to. But I don’t want anything to do with it, okay?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ David moved to shake off Jack’s hand, but his grip was firm. David wouldn’t look at him.

  ‘David. You don’t have to tell me anything. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t tell me anything about whatever it is you’re up to. The bitumen incident was enough for my liking. Just make sure that you don’t drag me down with you. Keep their attention away from Johanna.’

  ‘Of course, whatever you say.’ He succeeded in displacing Jack’s hand and stormed off. ‘Don’t we have work to do?’

  Jack looked at David for a minute as he walked away, then followed him. He wasn’t sure how their friendship would survive the occupation, but he would try to make sure that it did.

  *

  ‘You can’t do this!’ Jack was sure that his voice could be heard in the rest of the office, but he didn’t care. David stopped in his tracks and his head slumped. As if their night shift hadn’t been enough to rattle their friendship, this was something else. Jack could see that his friend’s eyes were closed and he was breathing deeply.

  ‘Don’t do this,’ he said again, as if David hadn’t heard him the first time.

  ‘You think I want to?’ David’s voice was quieter than Jack’s, barely above a whisper. He opened his eyes and turned them to Jack. There was a steel there. ‘This is our job.’

  The deportation order had come down from the Germans, but like so many of their orders they relied on the police to enforce them. As far as Jack was concerned this was a step too far. From what Johanna had told him about the camps, deporting the Jews from Guernsey was akin to a death sentence. If they sent those women to the camps, then how long would it be before they found out about Johanna?

  ‘Is it?’ he asked, his voice rising. ‘Is it really? Why can’t the Germans tell those poor women themselves? When did we become executioners as well?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You’re on your way to tell three Jewish women that they have to pack up all their belongings and leave! That’s what I’m talking about.’ He thought of Susanne, and how he should have done more to protect her, but Johanna was always his priority. He didn’t dare think about her, lest she end up on the list as well. ‘Where will they be sent?’

  ‘I don’t know! I don’t want to know.’ David sighed. His gaunt face was far from the jovial man he had been. ‘We all have our part to play. It’s just a job. And I need it to support my own family.’

  ‘You can refuse. You’ve heard the rumours.’

  David laughed. It was bitter and short. ‘When has the old man ever let us refuse an order? What’s the use? If I don’t do it then someone else will. It doesn’t make a difference.’

  ‘But. What if we all refuse?’

  ‘See you later.’ David pushed past Jack and out of the police station. The doors flicked back and forth in defiance at his parting. Jack didn’t want to follow too soon in David’s footsteps, but he didn’t want to go back into the office either, so he stood there, his eyes shut, wondering what on earth he could do to fix things. He had joined the police to help people, but the Germans had turned them into something else. If he had any other options then he would have quit then, but an image of his mother being thrown out of their home came to him. He couldn’t give up, not just yet.

  *

  Jack arrived at Johanna’s flat around half an hour later. He wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to be working at the hospital, so he was pleasantly surprised when she opened the door. She took one look at him and asked him what was wrong, so he told her. He told her about everything that had happened recently, about how his and David’s friendship was at breaking point, and about the deportation order for the Jewish women. Rather than expressing sympathy, she was rightfully angry.

  ‘How could you go along with that?’ she asked, pulling away from him.

  ‘I didn’t, not really. I tried to stop him. He didn’
t want to go but he had to.’

  ‘And he just went? To tell those women that they were no longer welcome? Think of Susanne – you know her! And Hilde, she works in Creasey’s. They’re living, breathing people, who don’t deserve to be treated like cattle. Can you not imagine what it must have been like for them? To be told they’re no longer welcome in the place they’ve come to call home?’

  ‘I told him not to go, to refuse. But he wouldn’t. He had his orders and if he didn’t follow them then he would lose his job. What else was he supposed to do?’

  ‘He should have refused. I know it’s not easy, but there’s always a choice; there’s always something else you can do. The Guernsey police shouldn’t blindly follow the Nazis’ orders. You’re supposed to protect people. Not hand them over to the Nazis. Too many people are just doing their jobs. But that makes them complicit.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, voice cracking. He sat down heavily in a chair that creaked with his weight, and put his head in his hands. He could hear his heartbeat thumping in his ears, and he took a few deep breaths. He hated arguing with Johanna. ‘But maybe we’re just scared? Surely you can understand that? They’re watching our every move. David is scared for himself and his family; I’m scared for you and my mum. Since they came here I’ve been trying to find a way, a different path or something. But so far nothing has presented itself. Every time I think I’ve regained control of the situation something changes.’

  ‘It seems like you and David understand each other after all.’ She attempted a faint smile. ‘What happens when they come for me? It’s only a matter of time now.’